Assembling
by LadyStarblade
Summary: Just before the opening battle of "Age of Ultron," the Avengers gather.


**Title:** Assembling

 **Author** : Lady Starblade

 **Rating:** PG

 **Fandom:** The Avengers Movieverse – Age of Ultron Era

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fan work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. I do not own any settings or characters depicted within and I make no money or receive any compensation for this writing.

 **Author's Note:** This is my first completed fanfiction in 12 years. O_o I believe it flows with the canon immediately following; to my shame I didn't have a chance to review the movie itself. Any errors are mine. I appreciate you reading (reviews will receive virtual puppies!) and enjoy!

* * *

Steve Rogers looked down at his wrist, spending a few moments watching the second hand sweep across the lower end of the dial. The gears glimpsing through the watch's face whirred reassuringly, and he sighed just a bit as he looked up again to see the large screens in the Stark Tower - or as everyone now seemed to call it, Avengers Tower - lobby playing the same looped video. An ad for a solar battery that could run everything in your house for a month. People might roll their eyes at such a claim, but as boastful as Tony Stark was, he wouldn't put something like that out there unless it really worked.

Another loop through the video, another glance at the watch. _Stop it_ , he told himself. _Staring at the time isn't going to make it go faster. It's 2:36, and if Natasha said 3, then it's going to be 3. Another few minutes. Then I'm heading in_. He finished his drink, a green-tinged lime-lemonade-tea thing that had tasted pretty good - besides, it would've been rude to take up a table without buying something - and lobbed the empty cup at the recycle bin fifteen feet away. It rattled home loudly, and Steve tried not to wince as several people turned to look at him. There was a big difference between 'low-profile' during a mission and 'low-profile' on a city street. Success at one was not being shot. The other...a little harder. Shrinking down in his seat slightly, he picked his phone up from the tabletop and pointedly stuck his nose into it.

His eyes darted to the phone's clock before he caught himself. 2:40. _Close enough._ By the time he managed to get into the Tower, through security, find the right elevator...it would be time.

Standing, he snagged the top handle of the circular bag that had been beneath the table and resisted the habitual urge to sling it onto his back. He could have; there were two smaller straps for that purpose, but that would be putting on the sign...'Captain America Here!'

That's why he had the bag, specially made by Tony Stark himself, based off a carrying case for a large circular drum called a bodhran. It was unscannable, waterproof, and bulletproof - never mind Steve pointing out that the shield was bulletproof anyway - but still able to be torn away if there wasn't time to fumble with the titanium zippers. There were only so many ways of disguising a red, white, and blue circle of vibranium, and leaving it behind had not been an option.

But the walk to the Tower had taken less than 2 minutes, and he was in an elevator in only 2 more, swept through security by a calm older man in an impeccable suit and a perfect butler's demeanor. As the car swept upwards, Steve glanced at the ceiling - a habit he'd never been able to break - and said, "Thanks Jarvis...saw me coming, huh?"

"Hello, Captain Rogers; you are welcome." JARVIS's silky smooth voice sounded in the air around him. "I survail two city blocks around the Tower in each direction. You remained across the avenue for 56 minutes...a calculated surprise visit?" The tone lifted into a question, and Steve wondered at how every time he visited the Tower, JARVIS sounded more and more human.

"Something like that. You fouled up the timing...I thought it would take a lot longer to get in here," he commented, then couldn't help smiling as the speed of the elevator immediately slowed.

"When do you wish to arrive? I have not informed Mr. Stark of your arrival as of yet."

"Keeping secrets, Jarvis?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

There wasn't a slight hesitation before the AI answered. Not at all.

"Not exactly, Captain. You are a member of a select group with authorized access at any time." There was a definite stress on those last three words.

"Ah. You mean people Stark can't lock out, stall, or avoid given enough notice."

"Precisely."

"Who else is on this list?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

"Oh." A beat. "Pepper's doing?"

"I am not at liberty to say." Steve was sure that if JARVIS were human, he'd...it'd be smirking right now.

"So...yes?"

"Shall we be expecting the rest of the Team?" His...its...his voice was even capitalizing words now. And avoiding questions. This was officially getting strange. But Steve was getting very used to strange.

"At 3...Natasha's coming in with a quintjet. Don't shoot her out of the sky or anything."

"Captain Rogers! I would never!"

 _Fantastic. Now I've offended him._ "I know you wouldn't. Something's come up, so we're assembling to discuss it."

"I understand. Mr. Stark is in his laboratory, but I will alert him to a visitor in the Annex."

"Thank you, Jarvis. Take me up."

"Yes, Captain."

A minute later, Steve was stepping out into the large promenade near the apex of the Tower. It had been completely rebuilt since the last time he'd been here, looking down at Loki as he peeled himself up from where the Hulk had left him. The glass, steel and concrete had been replaced and polished, staircases winding up to another story, glassware along the substantial bar gleaming. A very intricate looking table and attached screens took up most of the bottom floor, drawing Steve's attention as he came down a few steps and crossed the floor. _He does build nice things, I'll give him that._

He set his shield bag on the floor before he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, sending a single text. 'I'm here. 10 minutes.'

An immediate response. 'Ready. Call in 10 minutes.'

"Jarvis said someone came knocking…I already bought out the last one of cookies, so you're out of luck." Steve hadn't heard the second elevator arrive, but he definitely heard its cargo.

Turning, he saw Tony Stark, long black sleeves rolled up, something dark and oily staining down one leg of his jeans, and a large earpiece stuck to the side of his head. He wasn't even looking at Steve; he was instead poking at a tablet in his hand, blithely walking towards the small staircase and descending it without even looking. His head didn't even lift until he came within a few steps, then Tony looked up, eying Steve.

"Haven't seen you in a while. You look pretty good for a guy who had a helicarrier dropped on him."

"Stark," Steve replied, his voice a mix of warning and weariness. What had happened in D.C. still weighed heavily on his mind as he glared at Tony. The man had no idea that the helicarriers had been targeting him and a million others before being pulled from the sky.

Eyes locked for a long moment. "Right. Yeah. Sorry. Thanks. I guess." Tony shrugged before turning to toss his expensive looking tablet onto a nearby table. In doing so, he missed the odd expression on Steve's face. _Maybe he does know._

Steve's face had smoothed out by the time Tony turned back and held out his hand. "Captain."

"Steve. I'm not…" he shook his head. "Just Steve right now." Steve clasped the other man's hand, smiling a little.

"Gotcha. Okay!" Handshake over, Tony reached up and pulled the earpiece out, wincing a little. "This has been in way too long." Tossing it to join the tablet, he continued, "So, what brings you by?"

"In the neighborhood. Free afternoon." Steve usually wasn't one for needling people, but Tony made it so easy sometimes. "Actually, I've got a date."

"A date. Really. That took long enough…"

Then three pm hit, and Steve didn't even have check his watch to confirm the time. The familiar high drone of a quintjet began to rise, and Tony's head jerked around to the plate glass wall, seeing the vehicle drop from the sky and smoothly fit to the landing pad.

Tony watched it dock with narrowed eyes, then glared back at Steve. "You planned this entrance," he said accusingly. "You're up to something. Boy Scouts aren't supposed to be sneaky."

Steve just shrugged. "I have my moments."

The grunt Tony gave was equal parts grudging admiration and irritation as the quintjet dropped its ramp. The first form that hurried down it was a surprise; Bruce Banner hunched slightly, as if to avoid nonexistent rotors, as he all but scuttled down the walk, arms wrapped around a canvas bag in his arms. The moment he crossed into the Annex, he beelined for Tony, an exhilarated look on his face. "I found it."

Tony's face lit up. "You did? Where?"

"Glasgow. Little place in Kentucky. You don't want to know what I had to trade for it."

"Nothing illegal or immoral, I hope."

"Well, a '63 Corvette might have been involved."

"Ouch!" Tony's eyebrows went up, but a gleeful smile spread across his face as Bruce produced a bottle from the bag.

Steve leaned in, seeing a weathered inked label showing the profile of a bearded man. "What is that…Pappy Van Winkle?"

"Only the hardest bourbon to get in the entire country," Bruce said. "The 23 Year reserve. From 1990."

Tony turned the bottle in his hands. "Ah, beautiful. Just beautiful." He planted a kiss on the label. "Good work, Dr. Banner."

"Yeah. Steve…I got the call," Bruce said, sticking his hand out to Steve. "Something big?"

"I wouldn't have called otherwise, Doc. Thanks for coming."

Bruce nodded, while Tony placed his prize on the table and twirled it a bit. "Special occasion….we'll crack it open and celebrate. Drink ourselves under the table. No, wait. You can't get drunk. Wouldn't be fair. And you, you shouldn't get drunk. I'll just have to do it myself."

"Or you could just drink a glass or two, like a normal person," Natasha Romanoff remarked, gliding up to the trio, Clint Barton at her left shoulder. The archer's presence was not a surprise, but the looming figure behind them was.

The chaos in Greenwich had alerted everyone to Thor's presence on Earth, but the Asgardian had been managing to lie low. But he was here now, managing to look both grave and pleased at the same time.

"Captain Rogers. Stark. It is good to see you both," Thor rumbled.

"And you…Clint."

"Captain." Clint responded with a nod as Tony waved a hand in the direction of all the newcomers.

"Not that I don't enjoy a good party, but why are you here?" Tony asked, eyes narrowed.

Steve glanced at his watch, the second hand sweeping around…

"Incoming call, sir," JARVIS's voice rang out. "On the private line…Maria Hill for Captain Rogers."

Tony snapped around, giving Steve a third glare in as many minutes. "She works for me now…why is she calling you? Here?"

"One question at a time, Tony…Jarvis, put that through, would you?" Steve directed as everyone gathered around the table, now blinking with the words 'Incoming Call.'

"Certainly."

The words vanished, replaced by a frame containing the sharp features of Maria Hill, former SHIELD deputy director.

"Right on time…thanks," Steve said, nodding to the woman

"Of course," she replied. "Is everyone there?"

"Here and curious. Show us what you have."

"Right…linking in…" She glanced away from the camera, arm moving out of frame while data began to scroll on the electronic table.

Then the holographic display leapt to life, the usual spread of type too small to read from a distance, blurry movements of strange figures, and a badly-lit headshot of a man with severe features and slicked hair.

"This is Wolfgang Von Strucker, one of HYDRA's top minds. He got his hands on the scepter we took from Loki after New York."

"Wait, how the hell did that happen?" Bruce interjected. "Thought that would be locked in some government vault three miles below Earth's surface."

"It was. Now it isn't. And we're not going to talk about that right now."

Someone snorted. It had to be Tony. Or maybe Clint.

"Okay, so he has the scepter. What is he doing with it?" Natasha asked.

"He's apparently using the scepter to experiment on people he has in custody, trying to…bring out any special abilities and enhance them. We know he has at least two subjects. Living subjects, anyway."

A loud, dangerous grunt came from Steve's left, and as he looked over to see Bruce scowling at the image, he got the distinct impression that noise may have come from Bruce's body, but not from Bruce himself.

"Where is he?" Thor's voice had taken on a deeper, more threatening rumble than usual.

"He was last traced to an abandoned compound in Sokovia. Last report was showing a lot of increased activity and movement of material. Far as we can tell, he's there now. With the scepter."

"And a small army," Clint remarked, watching the grainy surveillance footage. "But that's not going to keep us out, is it?"

The silence lay low and thick for several moments, a network of glances meeting, crisscrossing, and darting away.

Finally, Tony let out a breath. "Well then, Captain...we're going?" No trace of mockery shaded the words, and every eye turned to the man from Brooklyn.

No hesitation. "We're going."

Maria's image nodded. "I'll get the clearances. Good luck." The call ended, and the Annex suddenly hummed with motion.

"Jarvis!" Tony yelled, his hand twirling in the air.

"Suit incoming, sir," the A.I. responded, a scarlet Iron Man suit landing next to the quintjet and opening to receive its pilot.

"I've got your gear in the plane," Natasha said to Steve as he scooped up his shield, everyone already moving for the quintjet.

"Good…this is going to be big and bad, isn't it?"

"It is what we do," Natasha said with a rueful smile.

Now assembled, the Avengers took to the sky, winging for the eastern horizon.

Towards Sokovia.

END


End file.
